


Cherish

by amine



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Porn, M/M, UKUS, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 23:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11001036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amine/pseuds/amine
Summary: "He tilts his head to kiss Alfred’s lips, but Alfred turns his face away. Alfred is saving his kisses for the one he loves, and that isn’t Arthur."





	Cherish

**Author's Note:**

> Speaking of my love of England suffering from one-sided love... ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

“Mr. Kirkland.”

His voice is formal, stiff.

“Mr. Jones,” he replies, equally stiff.

Theirs is a relationship of convenience—of mutual need and a mutual lack of anyone else to satisfy that need. They have each other and hotel rooms after midnight.

Alfred removes his jacket, revealing the braces holding up his trousers, and Arthur licks his lips. It’s only been a few days, but the need is just as strong as if a much long period of time had lapsed. Arthur tugs on those braces and pulls Alfred against him ever so briefly before he steps back and pulls Alfred by his unnecessarily attractive braces over to the bed. Their hotel room is much nicer this time, and the bed is soft.

“You’ve gained some weight, Mr. Jones,” Arthur says as he pushes Alfred down against the bed and reaches down to run his fingers across Alfred’s wrinkled shirt.

“Hey. Fuck you.” 

Alfred swats Arthur’s hand away, but seems to shrink back. Arthur regrets his words, but being callous seems to be the only way he can really _reach_ Alfred. Things will carry on like normal tonight, but Alfred will probably eat little more than an apple all day come Monday.

Alfred Jones, who introduced himself as the man who will one day be a superhero, is his colleague. It was at a corporate party that they both had a few too many drinks and woke up in the same bed. Awkward though it may have been at first, Arthur eventually went to Alfred with a proposition. It was all business— _convenience_ —on the surface, but, like many things with him, the true reasons run much deeper. Their other colleagues simply believe that they have a strained professional relationship where they snipe at each other. They have no idea what happens behind closed doors.

Arthur pushes Alfred down and climbs over him, loosening Alfred’s tie at the same time, and Alfred grumbles, but allows Arthur to kiss at his neck.

What’s wrong with a little casual sex now and then? It will keep the edge off—decrease stress and improve work performance. Those were his justifications behind his proposition. Alfred, naïve man that he is sometimes, took him at face value and believed him. 

With one hand Arthur manages to undo the buttons on Alfred’s shirt just enough that he can slip his hand inside and run his fingers over Alfred’s chest. He feels Alfred’s fingers fumbling with the buttons on _his_ shirt, and he increases the intensity of his kisses to Alfred’s neck. 

Arthur pulls away only momentarily so he can pull off his shirt and get Alfred out of his—although part of him wants Alfred to keep on both his shirt and trousers somehow simply so he’ll also keep the braces—then their hands are all over each other. He knows the subtle details of Alfred’s body by heart. He already knows where his hands are best made to roam, and where to touch to make Alfred choke on his breath and go slack.

He tilts his head to kiss Alfred’s lips, but Alfred turns his face away. Alfred is saving his kisses for the one he loves, and that isn’t Arthur.

Some nights Arthur likes to draw out the foreplay and touch and taste as much of Alfred’s body as he can manage, but tonight is not one of those nights. His chest tightens when Alfred refuses his kiss, but he won’t say anything. They never say anything once they’ve reached this point, except maybe to complain about how much they hate what the other is doing.

From the pocket of his trousers, Arthur retrieves the small bottle and condom he’d stuffed in there earlier. Some days he likes for Alfred to fuck him, because, despite his lack of finesse, Alfred is nothing but eager, and sometimes he _needs_ that feeling of Alfred inside him to keep from going crazy. Other times he needs to be the one fucking Alfred. Fucking. Sex. With no strings attached, of course. It’s nothing like what Arthur has often fantasized about since that hostile tennis match of theirs that started this entire ordeal.

He haphazardly removes his trousers and climbs off Alfred so he can sit up and pull off Alfred’s trousers, as well. Arthur nearly climbs on top of Alfred again, but he pauses, considering something else. 

“Shall we try something different, Mr. Jones?” Arthur asks, breaking their usual silence. Alfred blinks at him, looking endearingly clueless despite that he’s nude, flushed and breathing heavily.

“Depends on what that is, Mr. Kirkland.” 

Arthur smiles slightly. He tosses the bottle of lubricant to Alfred, who seems to interpret that to mean he’s topping tonight. Alfred grins and eagerly pours some into his hands, then reaches for Arthur.

“Ah, ah. Prepare yourself, Mr. Jones.” Arthur clicks his tongue with a wave of his finger. Alfred scowls, but turns his fingers towards himself. 

As long as Arthur remains detached like this, Alfred won’t ever have to know. He keeps his expression blank as he watches Alfred stick his fingers into himself, hissing and gasping as he stretches himself. Alfred’s free hand shakily reaches for his erect cock after a time, and that’s when Arthur finally reaches out to grab Alfred’s wrist. Alfred’s lidded eyes open to look at Arthur, and the blue of Alfred’s eyes makes Arthur’s heart flutter.

His face is burning, and he can only hide behind an excuse of lust for so long before he’ll be caught in the truth. He rolls the condom onto his cock and grabs the discarded bottle of lube so he can slick himself up. He sits on the bed and pulls Alfred into his lap, who predictably protests.

“Hey, no way am I going to do it like this— _Shit_ —”

But just as predictably Arthur cuts off any protests as he holds his cock and pushes into Alfred, gasping in relief at the feeling.

“It feels good this way, doesn’t it?” 

Arthur’s voice is breathy as he holds Alfred against him, not moving. Alfred squirms and winds his arms around Arthur’s back. He’s not going to demand that they do it another way, much to Arthur’s relief. Alfred is the one to move first, and Arthur follows his lead with shallow thrusts.

But it’s not the sex he’s paying attention to, because he can do that unconsciously—it’s that in this position he can press his nose to the side of Alfred’s face and breathe him in. Alfred smells akin to what Arthur imagines freedom must smell like. Arthur can’t really describe it, but it’s unmistakably Alfred. The brief period of time he had Alfred’s coat in his possession, wearing it sometimes just to smell Alfred around him, does not compare to having the real thing in his arms, grunting against his ear as he thrusts into him.

Alfred pulls back and Arthur notices that Alfred never removed his glasses, so they’re hanging precariously off his nose. He doesn’t want to let go or he’d put them back in place or pull them off entirely. Instead he leans forward to kiss Alfred, and Alfred is too slow to avoid it. Alfred’s lips against his own, _finally_. One particularly vigorous thrust forces Alfred’s mouth open in a gasp, and Arthur takes the opportunity to move his tongue inside.

Alfred tastes like old coffee and cheap mints, which is really a wretched combination, but it’s Alfred, whom he’s been dreaming about kissing, and so he doesn’t care. He tastes as much of Alfred’s mouth as possible before Alfred pulls away with a dirty look. They weren’t supposed to kiss, but they did anyway, and Arthur doesn’t regret it. It’s the closest to a real kiss that he’ll ever get.

Another thrust sends Alfred quivering against him, and Arthur knows he’s close, so he pulls one hand back to reach for Alfred’s cock wedged between them to add more friction to help Alfred along to his orgasm. He jerks Alfred off with quick strokes, and Alfred moans and writhes in desire. More than anything else, those actions push Arthur over the edge.

“ _Alfred_ —!” 

The desperate cry is out before he can stifle the noise, his voice thick with desire beyond lust. He pulls Alfred against him as he goes limp from his orgasm, spilling against Arthur’s hand. Arthur wants nothing more than to hold Alfred close to him forever. He wants to kiss Alfred’s face and murmur words of love as they lie tangled in each other.

Because shortly after their first meeting, Arthur fell in love—hopelessly in love. Alfred is an arrogant, sometimes clueless man, but he’s also brilliant and insightful when he wants to be, and he shines brighter than any sunshine without even trying. How could Arthur _not_ love him?

If Alfred noticed Arthur’s slip, he doesn’t say anything, because he pulls himself off Arthur and wrinkles his nose, as always, at the mess they made. He adjusts his glasses and then crawls off the bed.

“Gonna take a shower and then I’m gonna go. Let me know when you want to meet again,” Alfred says casually as he walks to the bathroom.

Arthur, meanwhile, pulls off the condom to tie off and toss in the waste bin and then lies back against the soiled sheets. The sound of the shower comes from behind the closed door.

Of course, how could someone like Alfred ever love him? He already knows he’s abrasive and unsightly. If it wasn’t for the sex, Alfred wouldn’t even give him the time of day unless he was required to. No matter how deep his love, it will never be returned.

Come Monday, he’ll have to watch Alfred staring with utter longing at a woman or sometimes even a man who has his interest, and he’ll have to pretend that it doesn’t bother him. He’s gotten very good at that. For now, when date after date fails, Alfred will still come to him for sex, and Arthur will indulge him. He’ll stay content to pretend that Alfred loves him back just as deeply, just as passionately, and after they make love they stay in each other’s arms. 

Alfred will be a while in the shower, so Arthur retrieves Alfred’s discarded shirt and wraps it around himself for the time being, pretending that it’s Alfred around him instead.


End file.
